Birdcage
by Shostakovich
Summary: After Jack Freed's limo blows up, Will, Tyler, and Jay are saved from certain death. Now the only things certain in their lives are death, terror, and lies. As their futures crash down over their heads, Will's past suddenly stops being a mystery. TRAVELER
1. After Freed

Okay, so this is the first time I'm doing a TV show story. This is based off of the ABC show Traveler (aired Summer 07).

The plot that I'm using is the one that would have happened had the show not been canceled, as per the direction of Traveler creator-producer David DiGilio at his blog (take out the spaces and insert the '.':

http://community [dot tvguide [dot com/blog-entry/ Celebrity-Blogs/ Davids-Traveler-Blog/ Closure/800023249

I am making some minor adjustments and fleshing it out, and though it's not necessary to read the blog, I highly suggest it as it answers a lot of questions. Although it does also ruin the plot of this story, but whatever.

So this is chapter one, kind of a prologue. The other chapters are going to be longer than this.

Read, enjoy, and review!

* * *

"Go, come on, go!"

Will grabbed Tyler by the sleeve and pushed him. Tyler stared at the burning car a second longer before racing away, Will and Jay close enough he could almost feel their muscles clenching along with his.

They ran.

Tyler felt ill; his sweat was cool against his neck and back. Will passed him and turned his head to make sure Tyler and Jay were keeping up. While his head was turned, he slammed into a person who had come out of nowhere.

She went flying backwards and grunted as Will stumbled over her, avoiding falling on top of her while maintaining his breakneck speed and runner's grace. Tyler and Jay skirted her as she twisted up; Tyler glanced down at her and only saw a sheet of pale, glowing hair against dark clothing.

He ran with Will and Jay.

"Wait!"

Tyler ignored her call; he expected Jay to be the one to pause but it was Will who skidded to a stop when next she spoke.

"Stephen! Stop!"

Jay slowed, panting. "Will, come on!" He gestured back to where they'd come from, eyes wide. Tyler stopped ahead of Jay, cold from his sweat as the sirens started to wail.

"Stephen, there's a blue Hummer around the corner— my mum's— Martha's there," the girl was saying. Tyler started walking back toward Will, passing a startled Jay. "She'll get you out of here, just go, go!" Will resisted her pushing.

"What the fuck, Jo, you think I trust you?"

"Fuck you, _Will_," 'Jo' spat the name, "since when have I _not_ been on your side?"

Will hesitated and the girl pushed him again. Her light hair shone in the dark and she pulled some from between her pale lips.

"Just go, you idiot, _go_," she cried, "Martha will get you out."

"Will, what's—"

"Come on," Will said. The girl scurried out of their way and Tyler frowned as Will started walking back to the other way.

"Will!" Jay was almost in hysterics now.

"Come on," Will repeated, urgent, walking away from them. "It's a safe way out, I promise."

Tyler followed quickly, glancing at the girl again, and finally Jay ran to catch up; by the time he did Will and Tyler had turned the corner and were climbing into a navy blue Hummer. Tyler paused, one foot in.

"You sure about this, Will?"

"Positive."

Will climbed into the passenger seat, Tyler behind him, and Jay slid in next to Tyler.

The three of them caught their breath as the car stood still, and then the driver's door opened and a forty-something blonde came in, sporting a tweed suit.

She smiled at Will, seemingly relieved, and closed the door and started the car before saying anything.

"Been having fun?"

Tyler looked at Jay with raised eyebrows. Jay shrugged. Clearly, the two knew each other, but Tyler had no idea who the woman was.

Other than that she knew what they'd been doing.

Which meant that she was either in the FBI or that she was in the Fourth Branch.

Or both.

"Not really," Will said.

The woman laughed. "Really? I'd be having a great time." She glanced at Tyler and Jay in the rearview mirror. "Introduce me to your friends."

"You know who we are," Jay snapped.

"I do, but I thought I might as well try to be nice since you're going to be seeing an awful lot of me."

"What?" For once, Will was confused. "I thought you were getting us _out_ of the city."

"You should already know not to believe a word that comes out of her mouth," the woman said. "But yes, I am. And I'm getting you to a hideout where you can recuperate." She looked pointedly at Will's stomach. "I'm going back to Bagdad."

"_Baghdad_?" Tyler said, surprised.

"Not in Iraq. It's a small town in Arizona." She glanced at Will. "Your friend grew up there." Will shifted uncomfortably. "I'm Martha Brown."

"And who was that girl— she said she was your daughter?"

"It was that way for a while." They waited but she didn't elaborate.

"Who is she?"

Martha Brown raised an eyebrow. "She's Joey Silver. You've probably heard of her father— Tyler, you especially."

"You mean her dad's Frank Silver?"

"Right."

"So he's in the Fourth Branch too," Tyler said.

"Not as high up as your father. Silver's got the connections, more than you have, Tyler, but he's not so ambitious, and he's definately not as smart as your father or Freed."

"Freed's dead," Jay said.

"I know, we've been watching him."

No one said anything for a minute. Tyler rubbed the back of his neck.

Will was the first to break the silence. "How did you know which direction we were going to run?"

"Oh, just a guess Joey made. That's what she'd've done, at any rate. It's a corner, it's a less public street, yada yada." She shrugged. "That's not what I do. I do more with pretending to be other people."

"Will does it both," Tyler pointed out.

"Bad example. Will's the best recruit Freed's ever had. You guys are lucky, you know," she said to Tyler and Jay. "Most of the kids from Hometown would've just blown you up."

"How comforting."

"So how are we getting out of here?" Will said.

"You're going to sport a wig and goatee. You're going blond. Jay, could you go into the trunk and grab the duffle bag?"

Jay spun and managed to heft the bag over the back seat and up to Will, who opened it and took out a dirty-blond wig with long thin bangs.

"And there's a little goatee, too—"

"Got it." Will donned the wig and pressed the goatee to his chin. "Is it passable?"

"Just make sure all your hair is hidden."

"And what about us?"

"You two do the good old ducking routine. I'll handle any policemen."

Tyler and Jay exchanged looks but didn't protest.

It wasn't like they had a better idea.

---

Martha Brown got them out of Manhattan with Will's disguise.

They passed out over one of the bridges without difficulty; clearly, Brown knew the policeman letting people through, for she only smiled at him, made some small talk, and passed him an envelope before driving through.

Tyler and Jay crouched until they'd crossed the entire bridge and were on the highway out of the city.

While Tyler and Jay resettled themselves in their seats, Will asked Brown about the envelope.

"Oh, I know him. That was a card for his anniversary."

"Really."

"Yes, Will. He's a regular cop; I've known him since before I went to Bagdad. He caught me speeding when I was going to the hospital to see my father. He's been watching that bridge since the bombing."

"Oh." Will glanced at Jay and Tyler in the rearview mirror. "How do I look?"

"Like a woman."

"Thanks, Tyler."

"It's not _that_ bad." Jay sounded less sure of himself than usual and Will laughed. He took off the wig and ripped the goatee off like a badly placed bandage. "So who are you, exactly?"

Brown frowned. "I'm from Hometown. The Fourth Branch got me out of jail and I pretended to be Joey Silver's mother for a year. They put me in hometown to find corruption in companies; Frank taught me about business and I get embezzlers." She shrugged. "It's nothing spectacular."

"And you're still doing this?"

"Oh, no, not anymore. I'm going back to Bagdad to hide until all this is over."

"They're going to look in Bagdad first."

"Oh, well, I'm not hiding in Bagdad _proper_. And I've been missing to them since before the bombing."

"_Before_ the bombing?"

"Joey called me, she said she saw you three going in. Hometown had her watch the place, they said they'd heard there'd be an attack on it." Will snorted. "She tied it together when she saw you with them two."

"Just like that?"

"Joey's not smart, per say, but she knows what's happening. No way Hometown would send their best soldier into a building that's liable to blow up if they didn't have something to do with it."

Tyler crossed his arms. "I dunno about that."

"These are abnormal circumstances for them," Brown said, "they don't usually act so brash. I don't know who came up with this whole plot. _Something_ at least was bound to go wrong. Even if you didn't do anything wrong, Will."

Will snorted. "I don't know about that."

"You wouldn't, would you. Got no idea what failure means."

"I've got a bit of an idea," he snapped.

Tyler was groggy. "Where are we going?"

"My father's house. In Newark. Feel free to take a nap or something, you must be exhausted."

Tyler rubbed the heel of his palm against his forehead.

"Thanks," he said.

"Just doing my job."

"Really?" Will's voice was distant, sarcastic.

"Protecting my country for the terrorists."

Tyler fell asleep against the tinted window to Will's snorting laughs and Jay's light breathing.


	2. Eloise Outside

I don't own anything Traveler (aired summer 2007). (God, is it really the end of November? This is so depressing. This season is all about getting FAT.) So anyway, I own no Traveler stuff. Though it'd be nice to have my own private Aaron Stanford as Will Traveler, nothing doing.

Also, please read and review! Because you love me! Constructive criticism HIGHLY appreciated!

By the way, this is not going to run in consecutive time-order. The previous chapter takes place immediately after episode 8 (the last episode). THIS chapter takes place the day of the Drexler bombing.

* * *

Chapter II:

Eloise Outside

Eloise Rose was obsessed with fashion.

Joey Silver, on the other hand, wasn't, and this presented problems because at the moment, Joey _was_ Eloise Rose. And it was hard to act wearing stilettos. Never mind that Joey wasn't an actress to begin with.

Joey-Eloise was outside the Drexler, standing on the stairs and taking photos with a digital camera of the impressive marble facade. She'd lost weight for this job, and now she was underweight and chilly, not to mention wearing a short skirt.

She was looking for anyone suspicious, because the Department of Homeland Security had gotten a tip that the Drexler was a target for a terrorist group.

Joey couldn't imagine why anyone would want to blow up an art museum, of all things; wouldn't it be more terrorist-like to blow up a political building or a religious institution?

Whatever the reason, Joey didn't really expect anyone to follow through on the threat. Nor did she ever expect to see whom she saw.

Stephen Mailer.

She sucked in a harsh breath between her teeth.

_What the fuck._

Though, he was going by the name Will now. Will Traveler— but Joey never could think of him as anything but Stephen.

And he was in Hometown, too— why would Freed send Stephen-- who happened to be one of the best in the business-- into a building likely to blow?

Joey watched out of the corner of her eye as Stephen paused outside with two other twenty-something boys. She recognized Tyler Fog, and then it clicked.

Joey took her cell phone from her purse and hot-dialed her 'mother', Martha Brown.

"Hi, ma? I need you to pick me up. ... I'm at the Drexler, taking photos— ... ... Oh, right. I'll call you when I get out. Just, maybe you should leave now, the traffic might get worse. ... I saw an old friend of mine, the one from Iraq. ... ... ... I will, ma. Bye."

She hung up and spun in place, frowning under her dark pageboy wig. Stephen, Tyler and the other boy had disappeared. "Probably inside already," she muttered.

Joey turned off her camera and slipped it inside her purse with her phone and checked her appearance in a hand-held mirror; not that Joey cared but Eloise Rose would.

"It's all in the details," Martha Brown had stressed. "The little things."

She flipped the mirror shut and sashayed her way towards the entrance. She smiled coquettishly at a tall blond twenty-something and got an admiring grin in return.

But she didn't linger, mostly because no matter how cute the blond was, he wasn't as important as keeping Stephen Mailer safe.

She was almost in the revolving doors when a fire alarm went off.

_This is it._

Joey slipped into the revolving doors but was pushed to the center of the circle, unable to get through the people pushing their way in from the museum. At one point, she saw a two young men skirting around the crowd flowing out of the museum on rollerblades. Finally, she shoved her way inside, hiding in the crowds and evading the security guards.

When she was alone, crouching behind a counter, she stood up and saw people congregated outside. She frowned.

"Will?"

And then a bomb went off.

---

Joey had enough sense to duck.

The force of the bomb threw her off her feet and into the wall where she crumpled, stunned.

_Stephen set that off. That's Stephen blowing this place up._

She didn't wonder about Tyler Fog and the other boy; they were dead, obviously, framed for the bombing.

And everything was so very clear.

From her position on the heat-scorched floor, sprawled out uncomfortably but unable to stand, all the details stood out. The empty windowpanes, the scattered and panicked crowd outside, and the hot air, so very hot, making a haze below the ceiling. Joey clenched her eyes closed and savored the pain in her spine.

Then she opened her eyes and pushed herself up as smoothly as she could. She clutched at the wall as she stumbled towards the East Wing, undeterred by the blistering air against her face. She pulled off the stilettos when she got to a staircase, threw them aside, and winced when she stepped up onto the first step: the marble was hotter than boiling water and specks of glass poked into her skin.

But she pattered up the stairs, realizing that the bomb must have come from the top floor if she'd not been burned at all by the fire, and skirted the pockets of fire on the second floor. Joey stopped at the foot of the second staircase.

It was still burning. Sweat was gathering on her forehead and neck, and she shrugged out of her felt jacket, tossing it behind her as she resolutely moved up.

The heat rolled towards her in waves, sometimes pushing her back a few steps from the intensity until she could accustom herself to it. She started sweating more freely until she had to wipe some away from her eyes.

Halfway up the staircase, she stopped on a landing.

"Stephen?" she called. "Stephen!?"

The fire crackled.

"Stephen, are you there—"

Joey trailed off when she heard the sirens. She spun and flew back down to the second level, grabbing her jacket at the bottom of the staircase. She ran to where she knew there was an emergency exit-- she'd studied the floor plan before coming to stake out the Drexler out a week before-- and noted with relief the fried alarm system. Joey pushed open the nondescript door to the back of the building and raced down the enclosed staircase.

At the bottom, she paused and leaned against the wall to catch her breath. Then she pushed open the door and stopped again to take a deep breath of cooler air before running outside.

She stopped to slip on her felt jacket when the heat from the bomb stopped radiating out. She thought briefly of her stilettos as she crunched over more glass shards, glancing around and keeping her head down to keep people from noticing her more than a passing glance.

Johanna suddenly remembered her purse. She'd left it on top of the counter she'd hid behind, but shook her head and started to walk faster.

_Phone must be broken or scorched. No point going back now._

She didn't keep track of where she was going, but she soon slowed to a casual walk. People looked at her, walking barefoot in the chill, with varying degrees of pity and scorn, but she just walked until she saw a public phone.

Joey hurried to it and pulled up the receiver, pushing in two quarters from her jacket pocket. She dialed Martha Brown, who answered after half a ring.

"Ma? Martha? ... I'm fine, stop worrying! ... ... ... I need you to pick me up; I'm on a public phone on, uh, 83rd and Seventh. ... Yeah, I'll stay where I am. ... Bye."

Martha hung up, but Joey listened to the dial tone until the mechanical female voice asked for more change. Annoyed, she slammed down the receiver and went to wait by the side of the corner building.

She leaned against the wall and balanced on one leg to inspect the soles of her feet. Drops of blood dotted the heel and the pads near her toes on both feet. She wrinkled her nose.

Joey finally put both feet on the ground and consciously stopped herself from putting one foot atop the other for warmth, knowing it would only aggravate the bottoms of her feet. She crossed her arms, wishing once again that she had not needed to lose weight for this job— which wasn't a job at all, now that she thought about it.

_Just a setup for two innocent boys._

She frowned and bared her teeth at a too-thin girl who raised too-thin eyebrows at her. The teenager quickly looked away, but it did nothing to improve Joey's mood.

Two civilians had been framed by either 'Will Traveler' or by Hometown, and Joey was starting to think it was all Hometown.

Which meant the Fourth Branch, since Jack Freed was in charge of Hometown, and Joey wasn't dumb enough to think Jack Freed didn't have a hidden agenda.

Jack Freed always had a hidden agenda, and for the first time Joey realized his intentions weren't as honest or honorable as he wanted everyone else to think.

Joey Silver was scared of what would happen when Freed realized she had gone inside after Stephen— after Will. Obviously Freed hadn't considered that Joey would _see_Will, recognize him-- how could she not-- and connect the dots.

And when Martha disappeared too, it would be obvious the two of them had run away.

_My father can look all he likes, but he won't find us._

At least, she hoped not.

---

Martha Brown came for her soon after that, and Joey climbed in the car and immediately told her to head to New Jersey.

"We need to get out of here, ma, Martha, and your dad's in Trenton, he'll let us stay there—"

"Wait a minute, Jo, take a breath. Are you okay? Why are you barefoot?"

"Because I had to run up the stairs, and I'm fine—"

"What stairs? Why were you running up stairs? You were supposed to be watching the Drexler, and that blew up—"

"No_shit_ it blew up, Martha, but we need to get out of the city, they'll be looking for us."

Joey hid her feet from Martha and instead clenched her teeth to keep from voicing any discomfort.

"But why didn't you call me from the Drexler? Someone would have lent you a phone, honey."

"I wasn't outside after it blew," Joey said.

"You were inside?! But— Good god, Johanna, you can't be okay!"

"I'm fine! Seriously, just get us the hell outta New York."

"You couldn't be," Martha snapped. "I know nothing about bombs but that was one hell of a powerful blast. You couldn't be fine!"

"_Fine_! I got slammed into a wall and my back is killing me and I ran up almost to the top floor on glass shards and now the bottom of my feet are mostly pierced and dripping blood. But we need to get out of here, what happens when they find us missing?"

"We need to get you to a hospital!"

"No! That's the last thing we need to do! The authorities will put my name in the computer, and then they'll know where I've been—"

"They might think you're dead. You _were_ right by the Drexler."

"And I went inside! But if they think I'm dead, no way would I be at a hospital, Martha. I have to think like they do, I know how to better than you do."

"I'm not going to argue with that. Let me just take you to my friend's apartment in Queens; she'll know what to do for you, she's a nurse and she gets out of work soon. I have a key to her apartment."

"But how will I get up? The valet-guy won't let me in barefoot."

"I'll go up and bring back down a pair of shoes you can wear up, okay? Don't worry, Jo, just relax. Are you sure you're okay?"

Joey pushed away Martha's hand. "Yes! Just drive, please."

---

Patty Anselmo, Martha's friend, was a heavyset, pretty black woman. Martha knew her brother "from work," she said, though Joey was pretty sure she meant "from the Fourth Branch," because almost everyone who worked in Martha's office was white or Asian. There was one black woman, but she could hardly be Patty's brother.

Joey's feet were in Patty's lap while Patty pulled out shards of glass with tiny tweezers. She'd accustomed herself to the pain but winced when Patty pulled out a particularly jagged shard, ripping another bit of her foot.

"She's almost done," Martha said.

"Yeah, with one foot," Joey shot back.

"Why didn't you leave in the first place? The news said the fire alarm went off, doesn't that generally mean you need to get out?"

"I went in after that, ma, Martha, because I knew Stephen was still in there! He set that bomb off, I know he did! He framed those boys—"

"Wait just a second. If anyone was doing the framing, it definitely wasn't Stephen. He wouldn't do that to two civilians."

"So you think it was Freed?"

"Of course it was! Don't you know the two boys got out?"

Joey's eyes nearly popped out of her skull. "So Stephen stopped them from being killed! And they're still innocent! And so is Stephen! Oh my God." Joey winced again and stared at Martha. "The Branch is fucking everything up!"

"The Branch?" Patty had paused in her work on Joey's foot. "Not the Fourth Branch."

"How do you know about it?"

"My brother."

Joey snapped her gaze back to Martha. "So you do know him through the Fourth Branch." Martha flushed. "And what, he's involved in this whole conspiracy too, I suppose."

"No, he's trying to bring the Fourth Branch back to being a benevolent organization benefiting the people, not the people in charge."

"He's a porter at the hotel where the boys were staying. He's trying to stop this conspiracy from going too far."

"Too late for that, this has been going too far since day one."

"What do you mean, day one? Not today."

"No, I mean from when Freed sent Stephen to watch the two of them— Tyler and the other boy."

"Stephen's Will Traveler," Patty realized. "How do you know him?"

"High school and Hometown. I only knew him less than a year in Bagdad."

"Less than a year can be a long time, Joey."

Now Joey flushed to the roots of her dark wig and glared at Martha. "Shut up."

"Don't talk to me like that, Joey, you wanted to live with me for after a year. And anyway, it's well in my authority to call someone."

"Blah blah blah," Joey mimed. "And who're you gonna call, Jack Freed?" She snorted, then squeaked from pain when Patty started rubbing her foot down with alcohol. "Why don't you just shoot me or something!"

"I wouldn't mind, actually," Martha said. She looked at herself in a pocket mirror. "Patty, you still have one more foot?"

"Mmm-hm."

"Well, I'm going to make some calls. Joey, you behave."

"Yes,_ma'am_." Joey slouched in her chair and crossed her arms.

"And Patty, thank you so much."

"Jon would've wanted me to help you. He's probably helping those two boys as we speak."

The three women paused, thinking of the infinite ways Jon Anselmo would 'help' anyone.

"I dunno, I'd still rather have just not gone to the Drexler that day or whatever."

"Johanna, Will Traveler is way too meticulous to do that. Think like he does!"

"Patty, I have enough problems pretending to be a fake person! Forget a real one! And one like Stephen! Or Will, whatever you want to call him."

Martha disappeared into an adjoining room.

"Why do you call him Stephen?" Patty asked. "Is that his real name?"

"Uh, yeah. Unless he got it changed before he was, like, in preschool."

"I see."

Patty finished wrapping Joey's foot in a bandage and pulled the other foot into her lap. Joey glanced into the other room.

"Ma— I mean, Martha, any chance you could get me a paper or something?"

"How about I turn on the television," Patty suggested. She tossed Joey the remote and Joey turned on the TV, fiddling around through the channels.

"Holy shit!"

"Joey!"

Joey ignored Martha's reprimand and stared at the TV screen. "They aren't even looking for other suspects!"

"Of course not," Patty said. "The conspiracy goes pretty deep."

"No deeper than people can imagine it goes. And anyway, Yale students wouldn't blow up an art museum in the first place!"

"Why not?"

"Because they've got goddamned _complexes_! Yale students would go for something bigger than a flicking' art museum! They'd go for the state house, the White House, not the Drexler."

"The Drexler's a pretty big thing, if you ask me."

"What the hell would a Tyler Fog care about an art museum?"

"Don't you care about it?"

"Pft. No. Why would I? And what does what _I_ think matter?"

"Cause you're about the closest we're getting to a Tyler Fog at the moment."

Joey laughed. "No doubt about that." She shifted in the armchair. "Is there anything we can do for them, Patty, you think?"

Patty didn't say anything for a while.

"I think," she finally said, "if you talk to my brother—"

"We are not talking to your brother," Martha announced, appearing in the doorway. "Not unless something drastic happens."

"What, why?" Joey pulled her foot out of Patty Anselmo's lap, stood up and crossed her arms. "Jon Anselmo's a rogue out there, we need to talk to him, join forces."

"We can't distract him," Martha said. "He's obviously got a plan and including us in it will mess him up."

"Right, because he obviously couldn't figure out a way he could share his work, being a rogue agent and all." Joey glared at Martha, pissed. "We need his help, and he clearly must be smart. He'd figure out a way we could help."

"And it might ruin his plan, too, Joey! Think from both sides, don't just automatically assume you're right."

"Not every idea I have is crappy, Martha," Joey snapped. "I've come up with a lot of good ideas."

"And a lot of bad ones, too," Patty pointed out. "Sit down, or you're going to have glass in your foot until it falls off."

Joey threw herself back down on the chair, seething as Martha went back in the other room. Patty gently took her foot again and went pack to work with her tiny tweezers.

"You know," Patty said quietly, "if you wanted to help your friend you could still do it without my brother's help."

"I know," Joey said, "but working together is a lot easier than trying to work alone." She wrinkled her nose. "As far as saving the country goes, it's gonna take more'n one person to make the people in charge again." She paused, and then eyed Patty from beneath her eyelashes. "And he's not my friend." Patty smiled.

"Don't blame your mother, honey," Patty advised. "She's just trying to keep you both out of harm's way."

"I don't give a shit if I'm in harm's way. It makes life more interesting."

"Life's not so interesting when you're dead."

"Who's dead?"

"You could be."

"But I'm not. And how likely is it that I would be?"

"If your foot gets infected you will be."

"Nah, I'll just pop over to Canada and get medical attention there or something. It's not the end of the world, Patty!" Joey gestured to her feet, one bandaged and the other still in Patty's lap.

"You know Martha would never forgive herself if you got hurt, and you know how my brother is." At Joey's raised eyebrow, she rolled her eyes. "He's... not very worried about safety hazards."

"You mean he's suicidal, in a way."

"In a way," Patty agreed.

Joey twirled a finger through the dark wig she was wearing. "I suppose we could just watch Freed. I mean, Stephen would want to get him back for making him do that sorta thing to civilians."

"That's a good idea," Patty said, proud. "Your foot's done, honey." Joey mumbled a thank you. "Martha? You two should get going."

"We should," Martha said. "Can Joey borrow a pair of your shoes? I know her feet are a little smaller than yours."

"With the bandages my shoes will fit her just fine. I have some Uggs, those should work."

"_You_ have Uggs?"

"For my feet, honey, ten years before some bimbo wore them to the beach."

"Are you saying' she's a bimbo for wearing Uggs to the beach?"

"Winter boots in the middle of the summer? Yeah."

"Eloise Rose would do it."

"Who's Eloise Rose?"

"Me, for the moment."

"Then switch her off, darling, because you're a sight nicer when you aren't being offended about bimbos and Ugg boots."

Joey laughed and tested her weight on her feet, then shrugged. Martha surged forwards with the black Uggs and Joey slipped her feet in. She hugged Patty and kissed her cheek. "Thanks, Patty."

"Just remember that idea you had."

"I will."

Joey smiled brilliantly at her and strode out. Martha hung back a few seconds to raise her eyebrows at her friend.

"One hell of a girl she is," Patty said, admiring. "This Stephen— Will Traveler, I hope he knows what he's missing out on."

Martha laughed. "Oh, well, that's all old news. It's that Brad Pitt she's gaga over."

"Well."

"And some Swedish DJ, Trout-hunter or something," Martha said.

"Basshunter! And come on."

"Coming." Martha kissed Patty's cheek. "I'll see you soon."

"Call me when you get wherever you're going."

"My dad's. He's in Trenton. We'll get there in no time, don't worry."

"That's the thing— I can't help but worry these days. Be safe."

Martha shot a final smile and left.

The door clicked shut behind her.


	3. Dr Brown

The plot of this chapter belongs completely to me. Some characters don't even if I wish they did. We all need to get over it.

Odd chapter means it's following the story starting right after the end of The Exchange. (For future reference, even chapters will be completely flashbacks.)

Read, review, enjoy, bake a batch of cookies. Then mail them to me.

* * *

Will met Martha Brown when she was going by the name Joanne Washington. He was fourteen; she was in her thirties. He was in English, uncomfortable as usual in his seat next to Alexa Early, and the teacher was late. 

The whole class had sighed in relief when Martha Brown-- Ms. Washington-- came in, looking the model of professional wisdom. She made all of them laugh within a minute and let them study, though of course she really meant that anyone could do what they wanted as long as it was quiet.

Will-- though he was Stephen back then-- sat with Alex Early in the front row from the teacher's seating arrangements and so Mrs. Washington started up a conversation with the two of them; by the end of the period Alex was smiling-- genuinely! -- at him.

Alex Early didn't open up like that much, didn't like opening up at all, in fact, but Martha Brown had something that Will Traveler had.

Charm.

And even as Jay roused Tyler from a short nap in Martha's back seat, Will was smiling, Freed's undoubtedly charred corpse a distant thought in the back of his mind.

Jay and Tyler had it too, but it was unintentional in their cases; Will and Martha had to work at it. Will was always suspicious, Martha Brown, peevish.

Martha pulled into her father's driveway and into the garage. Tyler stretched and blinked to reorient himself.

"Are we in Trenton yet?"

"Yes we are," Martha said. "This is my father's house. He's out right now."

"Bingo at the community center?" Will quipped.

"Actually, he does mahjong at our friends'. But good guess."

Will mumbled something unintelligible but not unkind, and Martha gave him a soft smile. "They're good kids," she said quietly, referring to Tyler and Jay. Will nodded. "The garage is attached to the house— this way," she said louder.

They made their way inside and Martha ushered them into a sparsely furnished family room. Tyler flopped down into an armchair and Will and Martha sat on a small sofa. Jay leaned against the wall near a window.

"How do you know your father isn't going to turn us in?"

"You wouldn't be here if I thought that was even remotely possible. Dad trusts me. He's no fan of the government either, and he's got no idea about all the stuff Will does."

"The Fourth Branch."

"Yes. It's all got to do with the draft during Nam for him. He had to go to Canada for years. My grandparents— well, they didn't like it much either way."

"Well, he's cleared of all charges, isn't he?"

"Well, yes. But he had to leave me and my mother with his parents."

"Damn," Tyler whistled. "At least he didn't get caught."

"I'm pretty shocked he didn't, he went all the way from DC. But he _is_ a physics professor. He's retired now, for the most part," Martha put in. "He substitutes at the local high school occasionally."

"What's his name?"

"Dr. George Mason Brown. But it's Dr. Brown to all of you." She smiled at them. "He's not used to people calling him George unless they're his age or a full-fledged adult."

"Full-fledged adult?" Tyler crossed his arms. "We're adults."

"But you aren't thirty-five," Martha said. "That's his definition, not mine."

Tyler gave a little snort and a silence fell. Without the flow of discussion, he found it hard to keep calm, knowing somewhere someone was analyzing Jack Freed's remains.

"Is Joey coming here?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah, of course." Martha's blue eyes twinkled. "Why?"

"I want to thank her. For helping us."

"You're welcome," she said dryly.

"Thank you, too," Jay said. His words were slightly forced but genuine. "Why were you tailing Freed?"

"It was Joey's idea. She said you'd want to get him back for making you do that to civilians." Will tensed.

_Maya. Please, I can't handle that right now._

But Martha didn't say anything as far as lost loves went. Instead, she rolled her eyes and pulled out a cell phone. "Excuse me a minute," she said. "I'll be right back."

She hurried out and they heard her greeting someone warmly before a door shut, blocking her conversation out.

Jay and Tyler's eyes were on him, worried. "You okay, man?" Tyler asked. Will nodded. Tyler hesitated before saying anything else. "Is your name Stephen?" Will narrowed his eyes. "I mean, that girl— Joey Silver, she was calling you Stephen. Or is it one of your other names?"

"Will's my name. I'm... I'm used to it. I like who I am when I'm Will more." At Tyler's small grin, he added, "It's Stephen Mailer."

"That's such a bad name for you," Jay said. "You don't look like a Stephen at all." Will laughed throatily. "And not just because you're Will to me. I mean, Tyler could pass for a Mike. But you're not a Stephen."

"Or a Christian," Tyler added. "Man, you really need people who can come up with better names."

Will smiled. "I don't even know who came up with the names, really. I just kept getting different dog tags, ya know?"

"Yeah."

There was another pause in the conversation where Will clenched his teeth together to keep from screaming in frustration. Martha was being deliberately obtuse with him— actually, he had no idea what she had planned for them. Though he could imagine it was an idea of Joey Silver's, not Martha's.

"What happens now?" Jay said.

And Will hated it, but he had to look Jay in the eye when he replied.

"I don't know."

---

"Hello?"

"Hi, Dad, it's me, Martha."

"How are you?"

"I'm fine."

"I'm fine too. You got home safely?"

"Mm-hm. Not a problem at all. You'll like the boys, like I said you would."

"Oh, well. I'll be home when the game's over, pumpkin, it's my turn now."

"Bye, Daddy. Love you."

"Love you too."

"..."

"Martha! Thank god."

"Patty, can't you at least say hello?"

"Fine. Hi, Martha."

"Hi, Patty."

"All five of you're there?"

"Five? No, there's just four."

"What? Who's not there?"

"Joey. She went to the Drexler."

"It's the middle of the night!"

"I didn't want her to go either, Patty, but how the hell was I supposed to keep her from going? She's twenty-four, for God's sake, not sixteen."

"_No_ way. She's not a day over twenty."

"She'd be thrilled to hear it, but she's twenty-four. Patty, is your brother okay?"

"I'm sure Jon's fine, Martha. He's perfectly capable of taking care of himself. But Joey can't seriously be fine out there by herself!"

"She's fine, she's fine. She knows her limits."

"Does she even know she has?"

"Yes. Patty, don't worry! Joey's— I have a call. It's Joey."

"Go, go, pick it up."

"Thanks. ... Joey?"

"Oh thank _God_."

"What? Are you okay, Jo?"

"Me? I'm fine, why wouldn't I be? I was worried you were hurt or something, you didn't answer."

"I'm at my father's. I was talking to Patty."

"She's a good person."

"She is. Now where are you?"

"A few blocks away. I took the public transportation, before you start spazzing."

"How'd you know—"

"You always spazz."

"Oh. ... Where are you now?"

"Top of the street. See you in a few."

"Be safe."

"Whatever. Bye."

---

Martha came back in sooner than Will expected, smiling.

"Joey's at the top of the street," she said. It was a general statement, but she was only looking at Will until Tyler cleared his throat.

"Where's she been?"

"She went to the Drexler. And I don't know why. The less I know, the better, she says. And she knows more about all this than I do." Martha grinned and shrugged. "She likes being in charge."

"How old is she?" Tyler said. Will eyed him; hopefully he'd gained enough common sense to keep his pants on.

"She looks less than twenty, I'll tell you that much. It's her own business how old she is."

"It certainly is."

Jay was so startled by Johanna Silver appearing through the window behind him that he almost knocked over a bamboo plant. Tyler tensed too, but it was Will who had a gun aimed at Joey.

"Will! Put that down," Martha ordered. She moved in Will's way before Will could see the smile to go along with the amused laugh Joey let out. He didn't lower the gun.

"Are you sure she's on your side?"

"Yes."

Will lowered the gun, his eyes on Martha's. "Fine." Martha glowered and turned away. She brushed the black hair from Joey's wig out of her eyes.

"Thank you for wearing this," Martha said.

"It doesn't bother me."

Then Martha gathered Joey Silver in her arms and kissed both of her cheeks, murmuring relief.

"Ma— Martha— stop— I'm fine," she protested. "Please!" When she finally managed to escape Martha's embrace, she was flushed but smiling. "I'm fine! Really." She ran a hand through the black wig and glanced at Will for the briefest moment before looking at Tyler.

"I think we met before," he started.

"We did," she laughed, "one Christmas Eve, at your house. And Gabriel! Oh my God."

Tyler burst out laughing. "Man, that was hilarious."

"Not at the time." Joey moved forward but fell back, not sure how to greet him. Tyler smiled one of his winning smiles and gathered her into another hug.

Jay cleared his throat after a minute of Tyler and Joey rocking back and forth. Will could almost hear her purring; she wouldn't do that out loud but he could imagine it.

_Remember it._

He shook his head.

"You're Jay?" Joey offered a hand; Jay shook it firmly. It was his "I'm a lawyer, you can trust me" handshake; Joey must have seen something in Jay's eyes that she trusted because that handshake never elicited trust from anyone.

"Yeah. Nice to meet you."

_Jay and his unfailing manners._

Joey finally turned to Will, who arranged his face into a polite, neutral expression. "Hi," she started.

_Not her fault. Not her fault. Not her fault. She wants to help._

He smiled, and she relaxed. "Hi," he said. "You okay?" She glanced down.

"Yeah."

"Something happen to your feet?"

She looked back up at him, perplexed. "Nothing serious."

Martha snorted. "Jo, your feet were gushing blood."

"Gushing blood?"

Jay was uneasy, and Tyler raised his eyebrows.

"There was only a little blood. It was all glass." Joey smiled. "From the windows. Remember? The Drexler blew up."

"Oh, pft, I'd forgotten." Tyler smiled at Joey; her eyes sparkled. "It must've been years ago."

"Decades," she agreed.

They smiled at each other with mutual satisfaction of seeing someone from their own high class. Will knew he'd never share that particular bond with Tyler, but it still stung that Johanna Silver could, after less than five minutes, share something with Tyler Fog.

_He won't get certain things out of me, either._

Will glanced at Martha to see her watching him with a guarded smile. He knew her line of thinking but chose not to follow it; let Tyler lead Joey on romantic fishhooks. More likely than not she wouldn't fall for his bait.

He looked at Jay, who was watching Joey and Tyler as they smiled at each other.

_God, Kim._

Jay glanced at Will and smiled tightly. Will might not be as lawful as Jay liked to be, but here they could bond. Here they could understand each other, because Tyler never formed attachments deep like Jay did with Kim, or like Will had with Maya.

"Will?" Joey's blue-green eyes were on him. "Can I look at that gunshot wound?" He nodded and Martha ushered Jay and Tyler out with promises of food and drink.

They both stood there until they heard the kitchen door close behind Martha. Joey looked at Will. "This is, like, the most awkward situation I have ever been in."

"More awkward than that time Alex said you were gay to the whole school?"

"Like, ten times more awkward. Dude, I met Tyler Fog at a Christmas Eve party and his little brother put an ice cube down my dress." Will laughed and Joey smiled.

"That is freaking awesome. Tyler's little brother sounds like a piece of work."

"He is, and I'm sure he thanks you for the vote of confidence."

Their conversation paused and they were left looking at each other.

_This_is_ awkward._

Joey finally looked away and pulled him down on the small couch. "Lemme look at it." He reluctantly pulled off his warm shirt and although Joey looked the same-- worried, anxious, determined-- the fact that it was all an act was painfully clear to both of them. He started to pull up his fitted black tee before letting it fall again.

"Hey," he said. She looked at him, confused. "Can we just be honest with each other?"

"Why?"

"I'm sick of it, I guess." Will shrugged but her expression remained the same as before. "You think you can't act— you're damn good at it."

Joey sat back and crossed her arms. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"I want to help you, but it's hard."

"_I'm_ trying to help _you_. I'm the one having the hard time."

"Why can't we help each other?" He smiled and Joey frowned.

"Because you need to stay still so I can make sure nothing horrible is wrong with that thing." She pointed at his hip.

"I've got the same training you've had, Joey, if I had a deadly infection I think I'd know about it."

"Honestly, Will, I don't care what you know about it."

"Don't call me that," he said. He clenched the arm of the couch.

"Why not?"

"I need to hear it."

"Oh.I see." Her voice chilled and he squeezed shut his eyes for a moment. He flinched when Joey touched him and she held her hand still with her eyes narrowed.

"I'm sorry, you startled me."

"I startled _you_? Will, you—"

"Please, Joey. It's not about you." Will cupped her hand in his two, looking her in the eye, trying to convey the sincerity he felt through his stare. "I want to hear someone say my name and know that they're talking to me. If Alex were here—"

"If Alex were here we know what would happen. She'd get in one of her moods and she'd tell you something that you don't need to know. Let me go."

He let go and she pulled her hand away quickly. "Your hair will get ruined in the wig." She rolled her eyes and fiddled around with the black hairpiece until it was in her hands and her pale hair spread out around her face. "That's better."

He gave her his Will Traveler killer smile and was surprised when her cheeks tinged pink. Then he remembered she called that his winning smile years ago.

Will winced as she gently pressed the skin around the injury and closed his eyes. He pressed the back of his head against the wall and felt Joey move, too. Her touch was still gentle but her fingers were moving in larger circles around the wound.

He suddenly felt her breath on his lips and he shoved her away with deadly precision. Joey tumbled back into the center of the room and gasped for breath and put a hand over her stomach. Her eyes met his and he was horrified to see them moist with tears.

"I'm—"

"God, I'm sorry, Will, Stephen, I was being stupid," she cried. "I am so stupid, I'm so sorry." She paused for breath and Will jumped in before she could start up again.

"No, it's not your fault—"

"It is, though, I wasn't thinking," she rambled.

_Oh dear God please don't say her name._

Will closed his eyes, prepared for the inevitable mention of Maya. "I promised I wouldn't," she said, crying into her hand. He opened his eyes, confused. "I promised you I wouldn't do that."

_How does she remember?_

"Joey, shush, it's okay." Will pulled her to him and ignored her struggles. "Shhh. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"No, you didn't hurt me. I wasn't thinking. I know—" She hesitated, then thought better of what she was going to say. "It's not your fault."

He rested his chin on top of her head and rubbed small circles on his back. Her ear was pressed against his collarbone as she looked away from him.

"It's nobody's fault. You didn't hurt me, Joey. I did—"

"Stephen, you could do whatever you wanted and I promise you could never hurt me."

He raised his eyebrows. "That can be taken so many ways, Jo."

He felt her hand pressed against his chest, knew she was feeling for his heartbeat. She ran her hands up to his neck and he sensed rather than felt her smile. "Take it however you want."

Will didn't respond to that. "Did you check me over?"

Joey disentangled herself from him. "Yeah. You'll be fine as long as you wrap it fresh ever twelve hours or so. Do you want some Aspirin?"

"No, I'm fine." Will smiled when Joey nodded in agreement. Jay and Tyler would spazz until he took something. "Just... tell the others I did, okay? I don't need them worrying about me."

Joey snorted and stood up. "No, they'd much better worry about themselves. At least you know what you've gotten yourself into."

"I guess. Joey," he started, "thank you so much—"

"You're the one who got me started on doing the right thing, Will. You don't need to thank me."

"I'm going to anyway."

"Fine. You're welcome. I'm going to go get some sleep because I haven't slept for the past, what is it, thirty hours? Yeah, thirty. Go to the kitchen."

"Yes, ma'am." Will crossed his arms and smiled as Joey disappeared into the hall and pattered up the stairs. He walked out into the hall.

Down the hallway, the kitchen door slammed open and Martha came barreling towards him. "Will!"

"I'm fine, don't worry. I just have to change the bandage every so often, which I already knew."

Martha narrowed her eyes at him. "Is she—"

"She went upstairs to sleep." Will glanced behind Martha and nodded to Tyler, who was munching on a piece of toast. "Could I have a piece of that, Martha, please?"

"Sure." She went back into the kitchen and Tyler approached Will, wiping the crumbs from the toast of his fingers.

"Jay went up already, too. What's up with her?"

"She thinks Joey and I..."

"Oh! Man, that must be awkward." Tyler paused. "Is there—"

"No."

"Okay." Tyler hesitated. "I'm gonna go up. I want to talk to her."

"Don't expect anything, Tyler. Just telling you."

"No, I know, man. I actually just want to talk to her."

"This is new." They grinned.

"But hey, if she wants to get her groove on, I'm all for it." Tyler sobered. "Seriously, man, I'm just gonna talk to her."

"Go talk then." Will pointed upstairs and Tyler clumped up the stairs. He turned to the kitchen and saw Martha holding out his toast, her eyes on the stairs. "Thanks, Martha." He took the toast carefully. "He just wants to talk to her."

"He's a player. Joey—"

"Joey's a big girl, Martha. She'll manage."

_It's not like she's never had sex before._

"I trust you more than I trust him, Will."

"Well, if you trust me, you'll understand that I trust him. He's a gentleman more than anything else."

"He's a player. And my Joey isn't—"

"She isn't _your_ Joey." Martha looked away, her lips tightening. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. But Martha, she's a grown up. You can't protect her forever."

"I know that, Will. But right now—" Martha took a deep breath. "It's the worst time, Will, you must know that."

"I do."

"And she's so proud, Will, if she doesn't have someone to stop her from doing something stupid, I don't know what'll happen to her."

Will hugged Martha and let her cry on his shoulder. "It'll be okay, Martha, she'll be fine. She's a big girl."

When Martha's eyes were dry, she pulled back and cupped Will's cheek with a smile. "You're grown up, too, Stephen Mailer." She kissed his cheek. "It's just with him, well, I know you wouldn't let anything happen to her."

"Do you really believe that, Martha Brown?"

"I do."

Will sighed. "You shouldn't. Should I go park on the couch?"

"No. You can go where Jay is. Tyler will have to sleep in the basement." Will smiled thinly.

"You still think he's a good kid?"

---

Tyler paused at the top of the stairs.

He heard Jay trying to get comfortable in the room on the left, and the room after that was a bathroom. But he heard faint humming from the room at the end of the hall and so he approached the door there.

"Joey?"

The humming stopped and he heard her approach the door. She opened it, and she smiled when she saw him. "Hi."

"Hi." The room was in semidarkness, and the shadows were soft on Joey's face and hair. "Can I talk to you?"

"Yeah, come in." Tyler entered her room and Joey closed the door behind him. He glanced around; a queen-sized bed was pressed against the wall and on the nightstand was a picture of a woman with a tiny infant. Joey turned and smiled. "That's my mom."

"Martha?"

"No, my real mother. She died— she was murdered three days after I was born. She wanted to expose the Fourth Branch but they killed her."

"I'm sorry." Tyler hugged her again.

"Don't be sorry, it's not your fault."

"I know. But still," he said, "my father probably is to blame."

"I don't want his apology from you. I want it from him."

Joey's voice lowered dangerously and Tyler didn't want to know what she meant by an 'apology'.

"Your— I mean, Martha wants you and—" Tyler paused. "Why did she make us leave you in there with him?"

Joey made a sound halfway between a snort and a growl. "Because she thinks I'm in love with him or something and that we'd be wonderful together."

"Does she— do you know about Maya?"

"Exactly my point! But she does get that. She doesn't think that was genuine, what they had. She thinks we'd be better."

"Why?"

She stared at him, and he bit the inside of his lip. "In my senior year of high school, I went to Bagdad in Arizona to live with Martha— I thought she was my real mother. My dad always told me that Mum left us."

"And that's where Will's from? Arizona?" Joey nodded. "And so you met him and you clicked?" Tyler dropped down on the bed and leaned back on his elbows.

"Not until November. And, oh God, I can't even remember when it was."

"When what was?"

Joey looked at him miserably. "I was dating Alex, but I never asked Stephen to stop when he started—" She squeezed shut her eyes. "He's special, he's different."

"Will?"

"Stephen. I know Will Traveler is the closest to Stephen Mailer, but there's still so much he's not saying, so much he isn't doing that's_who he is_. He's transformed for you guys."

Tyler was startled by the thin bitterness in her voice in her last statement. "You haven't let go of him yet, have you." Joey turned away from him and folded in around herself. Tyler sat up. "I know how that feels."

"Do you?" Joey turned back to him and he stood up.

"Almost."

Joey approached him to look him in the eyes. "I hope you never have to go through what I do, Tyler."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

Joey didn't look away as she reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Just make me forget everything, Tyler," she whispered. He held her waist and kissed her.

---

When Will went upstairs to change his bandage, he saw Jay sleeping in a room with two twin beds.

_Still talking, I guess._

In the bathroom, he opened the medical cabinet and pulled down the first aid kit. He pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor. With one hand, he opened the first aid kit; he ran the other through his hair.

He rummaged around in the kit and pulled out a gauze bandage and tape, but he dropped them both in the sink when he heard a small cry of delight. He pressed his ear to the wall connecting to Joey's bedroom and his eyes widened and then he slid down the wall, listening.


End file.
